"So the brave Falcon when its glorys fade / When its strong wings their generous forces shed / The vacant holds ignobler birds supply / With Ravens feathers impd she mounts on high / & weak or giddy strayes along the sky."

"Loos'd from ye chains of flesh his freer mind / Rose up to sacred love, / To perfect saint or seraphim refin'd, / Quitting his lump of clay, / As subtle spirits fume away / Loos'd from their earth they upward mount, they flye, / They light, they shine, & blaze along the skye."